Speaker 1: The apparition by guill de montperson. The subject of sequestration
of the person came up in speaking of a recent lawsuit,
and each of us had a story to tell, a
true story. He said. We have been spending the evening
together at an old family mansion in the Rue du Grenelle,
just a party of intimate friends. The old Marquis de
la Tour Samuel, who was eighty two, rose and, leaning
his elbow on the mantel piece, said, in his somewhat
shaky voice, I also know of something strange, so strange
that it has haunted me all my life. It is
now fifty six years since the incident occurred, and yet
not a month passes that I do not see it
again in a dream. So great is the impression of
fear it has left on my mind. For ten minutes,
I experienced such horrible fright that ever since then, a
sort of constant terror has remained with me. Sudden noises
startle me violently, and objects imperfectly distinguished at night inspire
me with a mad desire to flee from them. In short,
I am afraid of the dark. But I would not
have acknowledged that before I reached my present age. Now
I can say anything I have never receded before real danger, ladies.
It is therefore permissible, at eighty two years of age
not to be brave in presence of imaginary danger. That
affair so completely upset me caused me such deep and
mysterious and terrible distress that I I never spoke of
it to anyone. I will now tell it to you
exactly as it happened, without any attempt at explanation. In
July eighteen twenty seven, I was stationed at one one day,
as I was walking along the quay, I met a
man whom I thought I recognized, without being able to
recall exactly who he was. Instinctively I made a movement
to stop. The stranger perceived it, and at once extended
his hand. He was a friend to whom I had
been deeply attached as a yuse for five years. I
had not seen him. He seemed to have aged half
a century. His hair was quite white, and he walked
bent over, as though completely exhausted. He apparently understood my surprise,
and he told me of the misfortune which had shattered
his life. Having fallen madly in love with a young girl,
he had married her, but after a year of more
than earthly happiness, she died suddenly of an affection of
the heart. He left his country home on the very
day of her burial and came to his town house
in Rooin, where he lived alone and unhappy, so sad
and wretched that he thought constantly of suicide. Since I've
found you again in this manner, he said, I will
ask you to render me an important service. It is
to go and get me out of the desk in
my bedroom, our bedroom, some papers of which I have
urgent need. I cannot send a servant or a business clerk,
as discretion and absolute silence unnecessary. As for myself, nothing
on earth would induce me to re enter that house.
I will give you the key of the room, which
I myself locked on leaving, and the key of my desk.
Also a few words for my gardener, telling him to
open the chateau for you. But come on breakfast with
me tomorrow and we will arrange all that I promised
to do him. The slight favor he asked, it was
for that matter only a ride which I could make
in an hour on horseback, his property being but a
few miles distant from vois. At ten o'clock the following day,
I breakfasted tete a tit with my friend, but he
scarcely spoke. He begged me to pardon him. The thought
of the visit I was about to make to that
room the scene of his dead happiness overcame him, he said.
He indeed seemed singularly agitated and preoccupied, as though undergoing
some mysterious mental struggle. At length, he explained to me
exactly what I had to do. It was very simple.
I must take two packages of letters and a roll
of papers from the first right hand drawer of the desk,
of which I have a key. He added, I need
not beg you to refrain from glancing at them. I
was wounded at that remark and told him so somewhat sharply.
He stammered, forgive me, I suffer so, and tears came
to his eyes. At about one o'clock I took leave
of him to accomplish my mission. The weather was glorious,
and I trotted across the fields, listening to the song
of the larks and the rhythmical clang of my sword
against my boot. Then I entered the forest and walked
my horse branches of trees caressed my face as I passed,
And now and then I caught a leaf with my
teeth and chewed it from sheer gladness of heart at
being alive and vigorous on such a radiant day. As
I approached the chateau, I took from my pocket the
letter I had for the gardener, and was astonished at
finding it sealed. I was so irritated that I was
about to turn back without having fulfilled my promise, but
reflected that I shall thereby display undue susceptibility. My friend,
in his troubled condition, might easily have fastened the envelope
without noticing that he did so. The manner looked as
if it had been abandoned for twenty years. The open
gate was falling from it hinges, the walks were overgrown
with grass, and the flower beds were no longer distinguishable.
The noise I made by kicking it a shutter brought
out an old man from a side door. He seemed
stunned with astonishment at seeing me. On receiving my letter,
he read it, re read it, turned it over, and
over looked me up and down, put the paper in
his pocket, and finally said, well, what is it you wish?
I replied shortly, you ought to know, since you've just
read your master's orders, I wished to enter the chateau.
He seemed overcome. Then you're going in into her room.
I began to lose patience. Damn it, are you presuming
to question me? He stammered in confusion. No, sir, but
but it's not been opened since the death. If you
will be kind enough to wait five minutes, I will
go and see if, I interrupted him angrily, see here,
what do you mean by your tricks? You know very
well you cannot enter the room, since here is the key.
He no longer objected. Then, sir, I will show you
the way, show me the staircase, and leave me. I'll
find my way without you. But sir, indeed, this time
I lost patience, and, pushing him aside, went into the house.
I first went through the kitchen, then two rooms occupied
by this man and his wife. I then crossed a
large hall, mounted a staircase, and recognized the door described
by my friend. I easily opened it and entered the apartment.
It was so dark that at first I could distinguish nothing.
I stopped short disagreeably affected by that disagreeable, musty odor
of closed unoccupied rooms. As my eyes slowly became accustomed
to the darkness, I saw plainly enough a large and
disordered bedroom, the bed without sheets, but still retaining its
mattresses and pillows, on one of which was a deep impression,
as though an elbow or a head had recently rested there.
The chairs all seemed out of place. I noticed that
a door, doubtless that of a closet, had remained half open.
I first went to the window, which I opened to
let in the light, but the fastenings of the shutters
had grown so rusty that I could not move them.
I even tried to break them with my sword, but
without success. As I was growing ill irritated over my
useless efforts, and could now see fairly well in the
semi darkness, I gave up the hope of getting more
light and went over to the writing desk. I seated
myself in an armchair, and letting down the lid of
the desk, I opened the drawer designated it was full
to the top. I needed but three packages, which I
knew how to recognize, and began searching for them. I
was straining my eyes in the effort to read the superscriptions.
When I seemed to hear, or rather feel, something rustle
back of me, I paid no attention, believing that a
draft from the window was moving some drapery. But in
a minute or so another movement, almost imperceptible, sent a
strangely disagreeable little shiver over my skin. It was so
stupid to be affected even slightly that self respect prevented
my turning around. I had just found the second package
I needed and was about to lay my hand on
the third, when a long and painful sigh uttered just
at my shoulder, made me bound like a madman from
my seat and land several feet off. As I jumped,
I had turned round my hand on the hilt of
my sword, and truly, if I had not felt it
at my side, I should have taken to my heels
like a coward. A tall woman dressed in white stood
gazing at me from the back of the chair where
I had been sitting. An instant before, such a shudder
ran through all my limbs that I nearly fell backward.
No one who has not experienced it can understand that fright,
unreasoning terror the mind becomes vague, the heart ceases to beat,
the entire body grows as limp as a sponge. I
do not believe in ghosts. Nevertheless, I collapsed from a
hideous dread of the dead. And I suffered. Oh I
suffered in a few moments, more than in all the
rest of my life, from the irresistible terror of the supernatural.
If she had not spoken, I should have died, perhaps,
But she spoke. She spoke in a sweet, sad voice
that set my nerves vibrating. I dare not say that
I became master of myself and recovered my reason. No.
I was terrified and scarcely knew what I was doing.
But as certain innate pride, a remnant of soldierly instinct,
made me, almost in spite of myself, maintain a bald front.
She said, Oh, sir, you can render me a great service.
I wanted to reply, but it was impossible for me
to pronounce a word. Only a vague sound came from
my throat. She continued, will you you can save me,
cure me? I suffer, frightfully, I suffer, Oh how I suffer?
And she slowly seated herself in my armchair, still looking
at me, will you, she said. I nodded in assent,
my voice still being paralyzed. Then she held out to
me a tortoise shell comb and murmured, comb my hair, Oh,
comb my hair. That will cure me. It must be combed.
Look at my head, how I suffer and my hair
pulls so her hair unbound, very long and very black.
It seemed to me hung over the back of the
arm chair and touched the floor. Why did I promise?
Why did I take that comb with a shudder? And
why did I hold in my hands her long black
hair that gave my skin a frightful cold sensation as
though I were handling snakes. I cannot tell that sensation
has remained in my fingers, and I still tremble in
recalling it. I combed her hair, I handled. I know
not how those icy locks I twisted, knotted and unknotted
and braided them. She sighed, bowed her head, seemed happy.
Suddenly she said, thank you, snatched the comb from my hands,
and fled by the door that I had noticed Ajar
left alone. I experienced for several seconds the horrible agitation
of one who awakens from a nightmare. At length, I
regained my senses. I ran to the window, and with
a mighty effort, burst open the shutters, letting a flood
of light into the room. Immediately I sprang to the
door by which that being had departed. I found it
closed and immovable. Then the mad desire to flee overcame
me like a panic, the panic which soldiers know in battle.
I seized the three packets of letters on the open desk,
ran from the room, dashed down the stairs four steps
at a time, found myself outside, I know not how, and,
perceiving my horse a few steps off, leaped into the
saddle and gallup away. I stopped only when I reached
to wap and alighted at my lodgings, throwing the reins
to my orderly. I fled to my room and shut
myself in to reflect for an hour. I anxiously asked
myself if I were not the victim of a hallucination.
Undoubtedly I had had one of those incomprehensible nervous attacks,
those exaltations of mind that give rise to visions and
are the stronghold of the supernatural. And I was about
to believe I had seen a vision, had a hallucination,
when As I approached the window, my eyes fell by
chance upon my breast. My military cape was covered with
long black hairs, one by one with trembling fingers, I
plucked them off and threw them away. I then called
my orderly. I was too disturbed, too upset, to go
and see my friend that day, and I also wished
to reflect more fully upon what I ought to tell him.
I sent him his letters, for which he gave the
soldier a receipt. He asked after me most particularly, and,
on being told I was ill had had a sunstroke,
appeared exceedingly anxious. Next morning, I went to him, determined
to tell him the truth. He had gone out the
evening before and had not yet returned. I called again
during the day my friend was still absent. After waiting
a week longer without news of him, I notified the authorities,
and the judicial search was instituted. Not the slightest trace
of his whereabouts or manner of disappearance was discovered. A
minute inspection of the abandoned chateau revealed nothing of a
suspicious character. There was no indication that a woman had
been concealed. There After, fruitless researches all further efforts were abandoned,
and for fifty six years I have heard nothing. I
know no more than before and of the apparition